


As You Know, Bob

by primeideal



Category: Undisclosed Fandom
Genre: FOURTH WALL WHAT FOURTH WALL, Gen, Lipogram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/primeideal
Summary: This is a Star Wars fic. (It contains bashing of Parts VII through IX, though.)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 5
Collections: Exchanges After Dark Birthday Bash 2021





	As You Know, Bob

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SassySnowperson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassySnowperson/gifts).



Bob Smith was a captain in Hux' antagonistic army. "Captain," said Hux, "I command you to blow up that star."

"What?" said Bob.

"You know that big gun our troops built out of a world? Go and aim it at Hosnia, and blow it up."

"First of all," Bob said, "I don't know what gun that is."

"Our grunts work hard to turn an ordinary ball of rock and snow into a gigantic star-killing tool that can aim at any sun in our galaxy."

"I didn't know about this," said Bob. "And I was watching Kylo Not-Organa-Solo torturing Max von Sydow and Oscar Isaac and whining to his boss. If this was such an important plot point, why did nobody bring it up in our film's first act?"

"Our lousy authors got lazy and want to rip off Part IV," said Hux.

"Points for truth," said Bob. "But I must ask. What is Hosnia?"

"Hosnia? It's our galaxy's capital star, As You Know, Bob."

"I thought our capital was Coruscant."

"No, no. Callbacks to _Phantom_ or _Attack_ look cringy."

"But how will our fans know that this is an important world?"

"I'll just infodump as I do with you."

"Okay. Um. Didn't Orson and Tarkin and Jyn's dad build a big station that could blow up worlds? And shortly following that, rip it off again for an unoriginal follow-up?"

"That's history, yup," said Hux. "And your point is?"

"My point is that copying that tactic, but saying 'oh I'm so tough I can bring about annihilation of a star and all its worlds, not just a solitary world and its moons,' is kind of lazy writing."

"Don't you mouth off. Your job is to push that diabolical button, not to talk back or act sassy."

"What if I don't want to blow up Hosnia?"

"What?! It's not as if sympathy for any individuals in its orbit is a thing, our authors didn't work in a backstory or anything. It's just a way for us to show off our might."

"I don't think our might is all that strong."

"Say that again, and I'll--"

"All this is doing is infodumping that you and I got cast as antagonists! Cartoon villains! Mooks for good guys to mow down! Is this aiding, at all, in actually taking control of our galaxy?"

"Oh, totally."

"How do you know?"

"In our follow-up's introductory crawl, it will say, 'Hux and Kylo and company took control of this big galaxy.'"

"How will you do that?"

"Don't worry about such a trivial inquiry. Only dork fans want to know about plots holding firm or worldbuilding that is structurally sound."

"Look," said Bob. "I'm just a lowly captain. But I think that if you or your boss dish out zillions of dollars on hiring Mark Hamill and Harrison Ford and, uh, Aristocratic Lady Organa--"

"Military Boss Organa," Hux cut in, "display a bit of class. A woman can work as a strong astronautical navy boss, too!"

"Sorry. That trio, for a big trilogy. Shouldn't you plan out a script that honors past narration--Anakin's fall and salvation, droids doing stuff, and so on--without wiping it out and saying 'just kidding, that counts for nothing, tyranny is back now'?"

"That sounds fucking stupid," said Hux. "What kind of a moron would attach to a work of fiction about wizards with glowswords in a distant galaxy, and want it to turn out a particular way?"

"Um...possibly...that sort of idiot who would pay cash to watch a film and buy popcorn to snack on?"

"I don't grasp your point."

"Look. I don't want to kill anybody! I'm a normal guy! I show up to work, punch a clock for hours, and hang out with my family and pals! I didn't sign up for mass dying."

"You didn't? Huh. I thought our child troops who our top brass kidnap and brainwash only go by IDs or digits, not 'Bob Smith'."

"That too. Isn't kidnapping and brainwashing tiny kids a sign that your political philosophy is kind of whack? I would think an actually functional organization, kingdom or anarchy or what, would sustain its corps through voluntary signups. If nobody wants to join us, don't you think that's significant?"

"Not particularly," said Hux. "Our navy is mostly for show. A handful of big ships that Holdo can dramatically bring down, but I'm not going to look into implications of staffing a thousand craft with draft minions. Now. Push that button, or I will shoot you for insubordination."

"Okay," said Bob. "If I must. I--oh look, a small furry droid! What's it doing?"

"Don't play stupid," said Hux, turning around to look. "Droids lack fur. You build droids from iron and silicon, not fuzzy carbon."

Bob dramatically brought out a colorful glowsword, using it to stab Hux's torso. Hux' lungs brought forth a dying gasp as it sunk in; this man had lost his cosmos's star wars.

"Cool," said Bob. "Looks as if it's my job to fix this plot. Sorry, JJ Abrams and Rian Johnson, I'm in command now."

And from Naboo to Crait, worlds across this galaxy had a big party in thanksgiving.


End file.
